


Smooth

by leveragehunters (Monkeygreen)



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, POV Bucky Barnes, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-World War II Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, based on a fancomic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 11:20:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6421879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monkeygreen/pseuds/leveragehunters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky, having not quite managed to actually tell Steve how he feels, decides the best approach is to kiss him and let Steve figure it out. Things don't quite go according to plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smooth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fangirlregretsnothing (motabuwa)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=fangirlregretsnothing+%28motabuwa%29).
  * Inspired by [First kiss](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/186820) by fangirlregretsnothing. 



> This is based on the adorable comic by fangirlregretsnothing over on tumblr.

It was dark outside, the rain tapping lightly against the window of their tiny apartment. Inside it was warm and the light was low, haloing Steve’s slender frame in a golden glow. His sketchbook was resting on one knee, pencil held loosely in long, graceful fingers as he drew.

Bucky definitely wasn’t staring at him from the other end of the couch. At all. And he definitely wasn’t thinking about kissing him. Except that he was, and he had been for… _well, for as long as I can damn remember_.

The kissing wasn’t the problem. He’d kissed plenty of girls before—and a fair share of boys, too, if it came to that—with no complaints, but that didn’t help him _now_.  He was trying to kiss _Steve._ This was _important_. He had to get this _right_ and he was running out of time. Running out of time tonight and running out of time before he had to ship out.

If he was forced to be honest with himself— _and let’s not do that, okay?_ —he’d had plenty of chances. Opportunities, none of which he’d taken. He’d originally planned on the ‘tell Steve how you feel’ approach, except that had proven to be not so much an approach as words Bucky couldn’t actually get past his teeth. Which was when he’d hatched the ‘kiss him and he’ll figure it out’ plan. Now he was waiting for another opportunity. Another chance. One he’d actually take.

It wasn’t so much the worry that Steve wouldn’t feel the same way _—except he was sort of terrified about that_ —because they’d still be _them_. Sure, it might be a bit awkward, but they’d get through it.

It was just…this was _Steve_ , beautiful, angry, awkward, glorious Steve. _God, Barnes, when did you turn into such a sap?_ And oh, did he ever know the answer to that one. He was looking at him.

But not staring. Definitely not.

Steve’s pencil slowed, stopped, and Steve lifted his head, gazing distractedly towards the window. Bucky recognised the look. Steve’d get like this sometimes when he was sketching, all his attention turned inwards, not really seeing anything in front of him.

It was a gift from the heavens. The opportunity he’d been waiting for. Bucky wasn’t going to throw it away.

He shifted forwards, adrenaline pumping through his system, lifted one hand to touch Steve’s cheek, but then he curled his fingers closed. Bucky was going to kiss him. Finally. He leaned in, just about to make contact…

Turns out the heavens have a rotten sense of humour.

The pencil slipped out of Steve’s fingers and clattered to the floor. With a startled glance downwards, Steve bent over to pick it up, leaving Bucky hovering, frozen, watching the smooth line of Steve’s neck, the curl of his fingers, as he retrieved the pencil.

Bucky literally could not move. His fight or flight response had mutated somewhere along the way into freeze solid and blink like an idiot while you kiss the air.

Steve sat up and started slightly in surprise. Bucky didn’t blame him; it must have been quite a sight. He wanted to pull away, wanted to make a joke, wanted to say or do _anything_ , but he couldn’t.

Head tilted, Steve just looked at him, gaze flicking down to Bucky’s mouth then back to his eyes as Bucky waited, heart pounding.

There was a quiet thump that Bucky dimly registered as the sketchbook and pencil hitting the floor.

Suddenly, Steve smiled and Bucky was nearly blinded by the pure joy of it. The feel of Steve’s fingers— _beautiful, clever fingers—_ against his skin as they clasped his chin and pulled him close sent little electric shocks racing through him. And then Steve was kissing him, _Steve_ was kissing _him_ , and it was everything. The whole universe suddenly made sense, like he’d finally, _finally_ found his perfect place in it, and that place was right here, kissing Steve, touching Steve, wrapping an arm around him to hold him close.

Steve was still smiling when they pulled apart; Bucky figured he must be grinning like the idiot he was and he didn’t care. He had one hand on Steve’s back, fingers spread wide, the other cupping Steve’s jaw, fingers curling into his hair.  “When did you get so smooth?”

“Well one of us has to be,” Steve replied with a tiny smirk, leaning forward to brush the lightest kiss over Bucky’s lips before pulling back.

Bucky made a tiny noise of protest, could have been over the loss of contact, could have been the implication he’d been less than smooth; he actually couldn’t tell which when his brain was fizzing like champagne.

“Seriously, Buck, you looked like a frog.”

“A frog.”

“Maybe a duck?”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll show you a duck,” he warned, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice.  

“That doesn’t even make any sen—." It was as far as Steve got, his words cut off as Bucky lunged forward, pinning him to the couch. Steve was laughing into Bucky’s chest as Bucky wriggled lower so he could cradle Steve’s face between his hands, leaning in to kiss him again, grinning against his mouth.

Tomorrow was still there. All the tomorrows, they were still coming. Even together they couldn’t stop them, but right now, this moment, here and now, was perfect.  Bucky would take it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is the first fic I've written in ten years and it feels pretty strange (in a good way) to be writing again, even something short, so thanks for reading.


End file.
